Reflections
by Sena Rae
Summary: Starts after Episode 6.20. Some things are just too strong to be broken. When relationships fail, sometimes you need your best friend to show you the way.
1. Chapter 1

She knew it was a desperate measure. She knew going to see Anna was probably going to be a mistake, but she had to try. She had to try for herself, she had to try for Luke.

She didn't want to understand her, didn't want to agree with her. But she remembered Rory at thirteen, and she remembered her own rules about who got to be in Rory's life, and she did understand, did agree.

Driving aimlessly, she doesn't want to go home. She doesn't want to see Luke right now. She doesn't think she would be able to stop herself from spewing out every angry thought tumbling through her mind. She knows that the _"hey Luke, you know, if you made me a part of the picture from the beginning maybe we wouldn't be here right now?" _or _"if you weren't so scared that I'd somehow make you less important, if you just needed me a little more, than maybe Anna wouldn't be so sure that I'm just someone passing through your life," _would pour out before she could stop them. But it's too late for bitter thoughts to crowd in, because if there is anything she's learned in her life, it's that you can't go back and fix the past. You can only go forward the best you know how. And if the mistakes you've made have colored your future so much that there is very little choices that you can make, well that's the price you have to pay. She knows, because she's paid for hers again and again.

The late afternoon sun is blinding in its intensity, as she drives into it and away from Stars Hollow. Her destination is clear to her now. She has goodbyes to say. She has dreams to put away.

When she pulls into the drive of the little white church, she is struck again by the beauty of this spot, the feeling of peace she gets when she walks up to the door.

The church is unlocked, as she found it the first time, an age-old tradition the pastor had told her, a sanctuary for the weary, a place of peace for the reflective, a place of worship for the contrite.

She stands for a moment at the back of the church, watching how the sun plays through the stained glass windows, how it dances lights and color across the room.

She enters slowly, walking down the center aisle, till she reaches the first pew. Sitting in the sunlit room, she only has to close her eyes to hear the music playing.

She can see it happening in her mind, the organ playing a procession, the people standing, smiling, turning their heads to see the bride. She can feel her father's arm, sturdy under her trembling hand, as her eyes search out her groom, as she meets his eyes from a distance, as her heart pounds.

She stares into his eyes, blue/green and intent on her as she approaches him. He's so handsome in his tux, and a smile plays on her lips as she notices the perspiration on his brow, the nervousness in his stance. But as they join hands, his look becomes reverent and so loving that tears spring up and she swallows the lump in her throat at how much she feels for this man, at how much she adores him.

They speak their vows carefully and clearly.

_"I, Lorelai Gilmore, take you Luke Danes, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, for all the days of my life." _

"I, Luke Danes, take you Lorelai Gilmore, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, for all the days of my life."

And when he slips the ring on her finger, and she slips another on his, she knows that this is just the beginning of their new life, one they will build together. And the commitment of this ceremony, floods her with a peace, a certainty, a bond that she desperately craves and needs beyond reason somehow. She needs to be married to this man, needs to stand before God and everyone she loves and say these vows, needs closure to years of waiting and wanting and needing. And it feels so perfect, so good and pure, and _right._

She can feel his hand, gentle on her cheek, as he wipes away a stray tear. She can feel his lips, soft on hers, as he kisses his bride for the first time. And their smiles are contagious as they laugh out of sheer joy and relief, and hold each other tightly for a moment before turning to face the crowd of onlookers. And she sees her parents, smiling and truly happy for her. And she sees their daughters, leaning into each other, whispering something, content to watch their respective parents fulfill their dreams and make a family for them.

But that's all it is, just a dream, one that gets blurrier and farther away each passing day.

The sun has fallen behind the trees, and the church has gotten suddenly dim, the brightness and color taken away in a moment. She shivers slightly, coming out of her daydream, to find her face drenched in tears, her hopeful heart sitting heavy now in her chest, a feeling a dread and denial demanding attention, as the last of the sunlight fades away and leaves her in the dark.

Still, she doesn't move, as she lets the darkness engulf her and the quietness surround her. She's never been a religious person, never railed against God for her circumstances, never prayed that he would take away any of her burdens. But her hands clench tightly together as she bows her head in silent entreaty.

_Please Lord, please don't hurt him. Please don't let Anna take his daughter away. Please don't let anything that I have done make it harder for him to have a relationship with her. _

Please let it not be too late for us. I can't wait too much longer, I just can't. I just can't stand it anymore. I need to move forward. Please, she begs. . . . let us have our middle.

She says the last line in a whisper, sobbing now, afraid somehow to ask for something for herself, that if she even thinks of something selfish that he'll stop listening to her pleas.

And she laughs at her own foolishness, at her thoughts that somehow she can fool God into answering her prayers, if she keeps them about someone else.

Especially when she knows already, deep inside, in that gut Anna talked about, known since the moment she walked in the door, that this would be the last time she walked inside this church, that this was always meant to be a goodbye.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

She's not sure when she started changing, but she knows she doesn't really recognize who she is anymore. She doesn't recognize that girl who cried in a church or who slept on a friends couch so she didn't have to go home. She doesn't recognize that girl that's been so unhappy, that's been so focused on trying to find it, that illusive it, that she's forgotten what it was anymore, or even why it seems so important. She doesn't recognize the girl that's been standing in the background waiting, just waiting for her life to start.

Maybe it started with Rory. Maybe it was when she moved out . Maybe that was when she started questioning herself. Starting asking whether she made the right choices as a mother, whether she had pushed too hard, or demanded too much.

Maybe that's when she just started questioning her every move, her every step.

Or maybe, it was when her parents sat in their dining room and promised to help her, only to turn their backs on her again.

Maybe that's when she started not trusting her instincts anymore.

Or maybe, when she really thinks back, it began after she and Luke broke up the first time. Maybe that's when she started walking on eggshells. Maybe that's when she started waiting to hear that other shoe drop or started glancing up in case that anvil was headed her way.

Maybe that's when she stopped being Lorelai Gilmore.

Maybe that's when she stopped having her own opinions, stopped fighting, stopped saying how she felt about things.

Maybe that's when she really started losing him. . . when she felt she had to stop being herself in order to keep him.

And after everything, after the waiting, and being patient, and keeping it all inside, it really didn't matter.

After all of that effort. . . she lost him anyway.

When Chris pulls her back against him, she lies perfectly still. His voice whispers low in her ear, but his words just slur together into an intelligible blob.

She couldn't go home last night. Her house doesn't belong to her anymore. It's more Luke's than hers.. It was going to be their house, it was going to be their dream, now it seemed to only belong to him.

She couldn't go home the night before either. It was too hard to be in that house alone. She'd said goodbye to the perfect wedding. She'd let that dream go. But she hadn't been able to walk into the house in the dark and say goodbye to the life that were supposed to have. She just wasn't ready for that. During the day, she could delude herself into thinking that there was still a small chance, a little hope, that if she just waited a little longer, that things would start to work out.

But when it got dark, when she was alone, she couldn't fool herself anymore. That's when the walls started closing in and she couldn't catch her breath. That's when she knew she couldn't take one more day of waiting for her life to begin. That's when she knew it was time to move on.

That's when she knew it was time . . . to say goodbye to Luke. To let him off the hook. She knew it before Linny voiced her worst fears. That she didn't really have him anyway, and that sometimes it just wasn't meant to be.

When did she stop believing in fairy tales and happy endings?

But she did recognize the girl who stood in the street and gave ultimatums. She did recognize the feeling of having to make a life altering decision right then and there before it was too late. Before she disappeared. She felt that the day she walked out the door at seventeen. She felt that the night she left a phone message for Max and hit the road.

For a moment she had a spark, for a moment she had a glimmer of hope. Just ask, she kept telling herself over and over. Just ask him. You can't get anything unless you ask for it, right? He'll see you, he'll see what you need. . . he'll get it.

For a moment she was honest. She rambled on about wallpaper and Anna and keeping it all inside. She ranted about being honest, and unapologetic, and telling him what's important to her. For a moment she thought she had him.

She knows she was asking him to be impulsive, to do a Lorelai Gilmore crazy thing. And if he had taken even one step, just one little step towards her, one little step to stop her, maybe, just maybe she would have changed her now or never. But he didn't, and she did, and now it's just too late.

Sliding out of bed, she dresses silently.

"Hey, do you have to leave already?" he asks smiling.

"Chris, don't," she answers him bitterly.

"So, that's it for me?" he answers sarcastically. "You didn't want to be alone, so I was convenient?"

"Please Chris, don't do this. This never should have happened.," she says walking out of the room.

"Lorelai," he says stopping her at the door, "I just want you to be happy."

"I want to be happy too. Sometimes it just isn't meant to be," she answers, as she lets herself out the door.

Sitting in the car, she wonders why she hasn't cried. Not one drop since walking away from Luke last night. And she realizes it's because she just can't feel. . . anything. Not sad, or angry, or scared, or unhappy. Just a blessed nothing.

Pulling into the driveway, she's not really that surprised to find him waiting for her.

And one glance at his face tells her all she needs to know. That somewhere between last night and this morning he's gone from shock, to worry, to resignation to anger.. Somehow he already knows what she's going to tell him.

"Where have you been?" he answers simply, the anger resonating through the words.

"Christopher's," she answers, dry eyed and solemn.

She can see him choking on the words, words he doesn't want to ask, things he doesn't want to know.

Slipping the ring into his palm, she closes his fingers tightly around it.

"Lorelai. . . ." he starts, but she stops him. She can't listen to his voice right now. Can't let him slip from the anger to something else before she has a chance to escape.

"I slept with Christopher. You're off the hook. The breakup, it's all my fault. I'm totally to blame. All blue ribbons this time, Luke."

"All blue ribbons," she repeats as she walks up the step into the house. And she doesn't look back, because she doesn't want to remember his face. Because she doesn't want to see him walk away.

Closing the door firmly, she leans against it for a moment, before sliding to the floor, unable to keep herself upright.

It's over. It's done. And with that realization every feeling comes rushing back.

She feels herself shaking before she even realizes she's crying, gut wrenching sobs echoing through the silent house.

His house.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

There wasn't a morning that she didn't wake up and the first thought in her head was of him. But the pain in her gut that made her instantly nauseous has changed to just a dull ache now as the weeks have passed.

She doesn't regret her hasty decision. There is only one thing that she truly regrets. And still she has not been totally able to face that demon.

She has faced a lot of other things as May turned to June, as Spring turned into summer heat, as life marched on.

She has found herself. . . found the person that had been buried under months of uncertainties.

And she has faced this simple truth. Being happy isn't always that important.

She never saw herself as ever getting married. She always liked her independence, her ability to make her own choices, her ability to be the parent on her own. Though she may have waited for Christopher to grow up and be the Daddy, she never really minded that he didn't intrude on her life with Rory. She never really liked to share.

Until Luke. . . than it all started to change. She saw a future, a family, a life as a couple. And she had no idea how to accomplish that, how to meld her independent nature into a couple existence.

She recognized her fear right away, when she knew without a doubt that she was really in love. She didn't know how to do relationships. And inevitably she screwed it up, she made mistakes and they broke up, and she saw it all just melt away.

But she got a second chance, another try. And she was determined this time. Determined to be what he wanted, to bend to his wants and needs, to compromise. And she did this, she picked Luke over the purple wallpaper, she understood when he lied to her, she stood back when he asked for space. She kept no secrets. And she waited.

And it all seemed okay, because they had a goal. They were getting married. And that goal seemed to be what she hung all her hopes on.

But she sees now that she was trying too hard to be someone she just isn't . She should have ranted and raved when he told her he knew about April for two months, but he hadn't told her. They should have fought. She should have held him accountable for his "keep no secrets" rule.

She should have insisted that she be part of April's life right away. She should have asked him why she wasn't . She should have tried to make him see how important it was to their future. She should have told him how unhappy she was. She should have told him that waiting was driving her crazy.

They weren't ready to get married. She knows this now. They had no idea how to bring two such independent complicated lives together and make them one. And her decision to make all the compromises, to make all the sacrifices didn't work. It just made her crazy, to the point of madness.  
And when he told her why he had kept April to himself, that basically he was afraid she would overshadow him, she realized he may love her, he may need her but he still didn't trust her.

And when she talked to Anna, she realized that commitment from Luke was the key to bringing all their lives together.

And commitment took trust.

An unforgiving circle. An uncompromising truth. An end to their story.

Yes, she has learned. Some things are just more important than being happy.

The first few weeks, she was oblivious to everyone around her. It seemed like every day was spent in reflection. It seemed like every thought she had was focused on trying to understand her own actions.

It took her weeks to realize that Taylor stopped stocking mallomars and red vines. It took her weeks to realize that Babette wasn't shouting across the yard when she came home from work. It took walking in on a heated conversation between Jackson and Sookie at the Dragonfly to realize that everyone knew. Everyone knew, not only that she walked away from Luke, but that she betrayed him.

"Don't shuushh me, Sookie. I don't believe you can work with her and not ask her what she was thinking. How can you not say something. Like, way to go Lorelai, why didn't you just shoot him and get it over with. . ." Jackson shouts, as Sookie tugs on his sleeve, trying to push him out the door.

"Jackson?" Lorelai interrupts, her face flushing red.

"Lorelai," he answers angrily.

"You know. Everyone knows. Who?. . . Luke?" she questions, the blood draining out of her face, turning her a deathly shade of pale.

"Andrew told me. I think Gypsy told him."

"Oh, Gypsy heard it from Babette, who heard it from Kirk, who overheard Liz tell TJ to not say anything to anyone," Sookie jumps in.

"Really Loralai, what were you thinking?" Jackson asks again.

"I don't know Jackson, I don't know," Lorelai answers honestly. Because she didn't know, not consciously at least, not yet anyway. . . no. . . she wasn't ready to face that yet.  
When Jackson leaves, Sookie turns to her and hesitates.  
"I just can't talk about it, okay?" Lorelai says, and that's how it's been, how it's stayed for weeks now.

And if some are angry at her on Luke's behalf, well that's understandable and almost welcome, almost planned in some _I never underestimate this town's reaction to anything way. _And if some just don't know what to say to her, so avoiding her makes it easier on them, than that's okay too.

Because she is angry too, she is avoiding too, she can't forgive herself for betraying him either.

But she has found strength in the most unexpected places, in the most unexpected people.

She worried about Emily and Richard's reaction to the news but they were amazingly supportive and sympathetic. And their voices have a certain tone in them now when talking to her, a tone she recognizes all too well, a soothing tone parents use to ease the hurt of their children, a tone she hasn't heard in a very long time. And it's okay, if not a little pathetic on her part, that she craves that now, as a grown up.

And Emily has been one of the few people she has been able to talk to. Maybe because she's not part of Stars Hallow, not part of Luke's life. Maybe because her mother understood immediately that something was wrong when she found out Lorelai hadn't met April yet. Maybe because, after all was said and done, Lorelai's reflections of the last couple of weeks included a good look at her past. And she was able to recognize that feeling of needing to so desperately make a change in her life, that made her take steps to forever alter her future. And if she couldn't bring herself to fully understand the whys of hurting Luke that way yet, she could bring herself to understand how much she had hurt her parents.

It was a beginning.

So when Mrs. Kim walks into the post office behind her, she thinks she is fully prepared.

"Lorelai, we need to talk," Mrs. Kim states, matter of factly.

"Um . . well," Lorelai stammers.

"Eight o'clock, tonight, my house. Don't be late," she demands as she walks away.

Knocking on the door to the Kim's, Lorelai smooths her skirt. She has that same feeling that she's had for years knocking on her parents door, the feeling that she's entering the principal's office, or getting hauled off to jail or . . or . . . entering the gates of hell. Yes, that just about fits, she thinks.

"Lorelai, you are prompt. Good."

"Come into the kitchen. We will have tea," she says weaving her way through tables and desks.

"Sit down Lorelai," she commands.

"Yes ma'am," she answers, dropping gratefully into a nearby chair.

Mrs. Kim takes one look at Lorelai's face, and shakes her head.

"Tea will not be enough, she mutters." Climbing onto a chair, she finds her hidden stash of Saki, bringing the bottle and two glasses to the table.

Pouring Lorelai a generous shot, she sits across from her and pours herself one too. Downing the first shot, she glances at Lorelai, nodding her insistence that she drink up. Lorelai gives herself some credit for not choking as the burning liquid slides down her throat, heating her from the inside out.

As Mrs. Kim pours them each another, she starts to talk.

"Lorelai, we have known each other for a very long time now. We have raised our children together. We have both raised beautiful independent daughters. We have both gone through pains raising those daughters also."

"That's true."

"We also both have very demanding mothers. Mothers that do not always understand our choices in life."

"That's true also."

"We are strong women."

"Here, here," she quips, after having downed shot number two, and feeling quite buzzed already.

"Lorelai. . . you are going to get through this hard time you are having. You are going to move past this and find happiness. Maybe with Luke, maybe not. Maybe without a man. But you. . . are going to be all right."

"Thank you," Lorelai answers, moved to tears that this strong woman would take the time to say this to her, no questions asked, when so many are avoiding her like the plague.

"You thought I asked you here to lecture you, didn't you?" Mrs. Kim asked in her most dignified voice, a slight smile on her stoic face, obviously feeling the effects of the liquor.

"Well. . ." Lorelai starts, not really knowing what to say.  
"We have all made mistakes Lorelai. We have all hurt people, done things we are ashamed of, made wrong decisions. If we were not all sinners, we would not need a Savior now, would we?"

"I guess not."

"Did I ever tell you about the man I was in love with in Korea? This was before the marriage to Mr. Kim that my parents arranged of course."

"No. Really. There was someone else? Tell me about it," Lorelai answers, leaning forward intently, more than a little sloshed now, laughing as Mrs. Kim pours her one more shot.

Yes. She has found strength from the most unexpected people.

tbc  
A/N: Luke's actually in the next chapter. I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Grab the Kleenex

"I'm not going without you," Rory exclaimed.

"Really, I'm just not in the mood to do the whole festival thing. Cotton candy is just wasted on me tonight babe," Lorelai answered.

"Mom, you haven't been out of the house except to go to work or run errands for days. It will be fun, you'll see, we'll drink Patty's punch, watch the festivities, mock Kirk. Like old times," Rory implored.

"He won't be there," Lane added.

"Lane, it's okay. It's okay if he's there," Lorelai answered weakly.

"I know. But I heard April ask him about going and he told her he couldn't make it."

Sighing, looking into their two expectant faces, she finally relents.

"I'll come for a little while. But I'm not staying til the bitter end, that's for you guys. And watch that punch Missy, you remember the last time don't you? . And believe me, I really haven't washed that bathroom floor in awhile now."

"I'm fully in tune with my alcoholic limitations now. Not to worry," Rory exclaimed, tugging her out the door.

The first thought as she reached the square is that Taylor indeed outdid himself with the lights. Everything looks beautiful, lit up like a thousand fireflies against the clear summer night sky. The light softens the faces of the patrons, and for the first time she feels like a spectator instead of a participant. The excitement of the evening twirls around her, but she can't quite join in, can't quite feel a part of it.

She hasn't really talked to anyone in town for weeks. It hasn't been an uncomfortable silence, just a necessary one. She doesn't know what to say, they don't know what to ask. But she's noticed that the diner has been full to the brim daily, and the knowledge that life goes on, and that everyone has rallied around him in support, has eased her guilt somewhat. He has always needed this town more than he has let on.

She settles on the bench near the gazebo, content to watch Patty's latest class of dancers, and to let Lane and Rory wander through the displays and booths.

No one stops to talk to her but she really doesn't notice. She sips her punch and people watches.

"Come on Luke, just come out for a little while. Mom's going to come find me at the festival when she comes to pick me up. She says she hasn't been to one of these things since she was a kid, and it's . . . fun," April exclaims, emphasizing the last word.

"I'm busy," he answers his daughter, amazed how she's learned so quickly that she can influence him to do just about anything she wants.

"There's no one here. Everyone's out there. You haven't left the diner in days. I don't like leaving you here by yourself, when everyone out there is having fun. Pleeeeeze," April asks, smiling at his rolled eyes and grumpy demeanor.

"Geez. I'll walk over with you. But I'm only staying for a few minutes. Then you're on your own. And don't eat too much junk food," he admonishes, tucking a ten dollar bill into her hand.

"Thanks," she says smiling, turning the closed sign around on the door, and tugging him out it.

"I love this town," she says happily, the smile on her face contagious.

"Solidarity, brother, solidarity," Kirk says solemnly, slapping him on the arm as he walks by with Lulu.

"Yeah, I love this town too," he deadpans, giving Kirk a confused look, and rolling his eyes.

It doesn't take long for April to hook up with friends she's made since hanging out at the diner. And it doesn't take much coaxing from Luke to have her going off on her own to enjoy the evening.

He stands at the edge of the crowd, unconsciously looking for Lorelai, hoping for a glimpse of her face. There has not been a day when his first thought in the morning hasn't been about her. There hasn't been a night when the bells chime unexpectedly late, that he hasn't looked up, hoping that it was her. And he longs for a quick glimpse of her smile.

When he sees her sitting on the bench, lost in thought, he's surprised. She's usually surrounded by a crowd. He watches as people walk by, seemingly oblivious to her presence, or as others that know her well, deliberately take a route around her. And it doesn't take him long to realize that something is very wrong.

Catching Patty's attention, he calls her over.

"Why isn't anyone talking to Lorelai," he demands.

"Well honey, it's not like anyone knows what to say. I think everyone's still a little in shock that she really did that, you know. . . that. . . to you, and . . . well, she really hasn't made an attempt to talk to anyone either."

"Geez, does everyone know?"

"Pretty much."

"Kirk? Right?"

"Well, that boy does love you, you know. I'm sure he was just trying to support you."

"Right," he says as he walks away, "Damn town," he mutters under his breath.

After the fourth person stopped to talk to him, or pat him on the back, or touch him on the arm, he was about to explode. He kept watching her, watching others, sitting so still on that bench by herself. He watched every thought flicker across her features. He watched how the light played across her hair, shone in her eyes. He watched frozen from a hundred feet away, that felt like miles.

He saw her face light up for a moment, a grin splitting her face, one of true joy, and he saw her mouth the words congratulations across the crowd to Liz, who answered with an uncomfortable half-hearted wave, before an angry looking TJ tugged her off in the other direction.

And he watched as the blush rose to her cheeks, and he swore her eyes glowed as lights reflected the sudden sheen of water in her eyes. He watched as she bent her head briefly, and he watched as she lifted her chin to the night sky, and sat up straighter on the bench, her defenses rallied.

Lost in his observations, he didn't see Jackson and Sookie until they were right on top of him.

"Solidarity, brother," Jackson states.

"Oh God, not you too. . ." Luke shakes his head in disbelief.

"Please tell me you have talked to her, helped her through this?" he demands of Sookie.

"She really hasn't wanted to talk about it. I mean we talk every day, we run a business together. But it's hasn't been about anything personal. She just clams up if I even try to bring it up. . ." Sookie answers distressed.

"But you're her best friend, you should be there for her. . ." Luke rants back at her.

"No Luke, you're her best friend," she answers sadly, as she walks away.

Heart pounding, he tries not to think too hard about his next actions, or he knows he'll talk himself out of them. Skirting around behind where she's sitting, he pauses for a moment, shaking his head, need and protectiveness, overtaking self preservation

Sliding onto the bench next to her, he grabs her left hand before she has time to react, before she can process his actions. And he entwines their fingers tightly leaving her no way to escape.  
"Luke, what are you doing?" she asks, her heart leaping into her chest. She tugs on her hand, but he just pulls it over onto his knee, pressing his other hand against their joined fingers.  
He doesn't answer immediately, and she's at a sudden loss for words, his hands warming hers, causing the blood to rush to her cheeks. She glances at his profile, as he hasn't taken his eyes off some distant point since he's sat down.

"I thought you could use a friend," he answers quietly, meeting her eyes briefly, and she has to look away first as the rush of emotion is overwhelming.

Tears instantly sting her eyes, and she tugs again at his hand, wanting more than ever now to just run and keep on running.

"You don't have to do this," she whispers, her voice slurred with emotion.

"Don't cry," he demands, the words coming out more harshly than he planned, his voice gravely from the sudden lump that has formed in his own throat. And he doesn't know if the command is for her or for himself, as he feels the sudden urge to wail and beg and curse what has brought him to this point.

But his words have the desired effect for them both. She swallows once, determined to do what he asks. He struggles to know what to do next. And they are both oblivious to the tears in their friends eyes, as they watch the pain so evident between them.

"We need to talk," he tells her finally.

"Luke . . . hi," Rory says slowly, interrupting them, the obvious fear in her face, making him feel ashamed and low. And he's rushed with the feeling that he's let her down too, this child/woman that he's always championed.

"I'm going to walk your Mom home, okay?" he asks, but it's a weak question, because no one is going to stop him from having this moment, having captured her now so successfully.

"Mom?" Rory asks, looking for a sign that she's okay with this.

"I'll see you later," Lorelai answers her, looking directly in her eyes, looking calm and resigned. And she is, resigned to face the inevitable confrontation, knowing that this is the final step that she has been avoiding.

They walk in silence to her door. He still clutches her hand tightly, afraid she'll somehow disappear into the night if he lets go, she has stopped fighting against his steely grip. The walk seems to take longer than usual, or maybe it's because she's aware of every movement, every brush of his arm against hers, every little touch that has her heart beating wildly.  
He can feel her pulse as his wrist lies against hers. He can hear her measured breaths, feel her trembling slightly beside him as she fights to contain her feelings.

They reach the steps, and still he doesn't release her, gesturing for her to sit before he joins her. The air is soft, the coolness of early summer taking away the heat of the day. They sit in the dark, the street lights not quite reaching the porch, leaving them in the shadows.  
He pulls her hand onto his lap again, his fingers tracing the back of her hand, unconsciously tracing the place where his ring was.

He hears her catch her breath, hears her struggle against the emotions he's invoking, that she's kept so successfully in check.

And he turns just slightly into her, and leans to whisper in her ear, to brush his lips softly across her cheek.

"Don't cry," he whispers as he catches the first tear that streaks her cheek with his lips, as he releases the flood that he knows she won't be able to stop, now that they're alone. And his words contradict his actions, as he encourages her to let go with soft words and gentle touches.

And she rests her head on his shoulder, and weeps, great choking sobs of grief and confusion.

And for him, this is a beginning. The first glimmer of hope he's had in a long time.

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

_Don't cry," he whispers as he catches the first tear that streaks her cheek with his lips, as he releases the flood that he knows she won't be able to stop, now that they're alone. And his words contradict his actions, as he encourages her to let go. _

And she rests her head on his shoulder, and weeps, great choking sobs of grief and confusion.

And for him, this is a beginning. The first glimmer of hope he's had in a long time.

"I don't want to do this," Lorelai chokes out between sobs, trying to stop crying.

"It's okay," he whispers, "shhhhh," he soothes, cupping the back of her head and pressing her closer into his chest. He hasn't wrapped her in his arms, as he would have before. Before everything went wrong.

"I can't do this," she says finally, pushing away from him to bury her face in her own hands, the tears still flowing freely.

"You're supposed to hate me. You're supposed to never talk to me again. You're not supposed to come to my rescue or be my best friend," she whispers between gulps of air, trying to stop the shudders racking her body. She hasn't cried like this since the night she closed the door, and let herself slide to the floor and grieve.

She thought she was ready for the inevitable confrontation. She thought she was stronger, strong enough, but she was wrong.

She wasn't ready for the touch of his hand, the brush of his arm, the feel of his kiss on her cheek. She wasn't ready to feel so completely helpless in his arms again, so in need of him.

"I don't hate you Lorelai," he answers.

He wasn't ready to touch her skin, to breath in her scent, to dry her tears. He wasn't ready to feel protective of her again. He wasn't ready to be this willing for forgive her.

He hadn't planned it, never saw it coming in a million years. . . that tonight he would be here with her. He truly thought it was over, done with. But sitting here, all he can think of is touching her again, of holding her hand for the rest of his life, of never letting her go.

"I've thought a lot about what happened that night. And I get it, I do. I get the purple wallpaper. I get you going to Anna. I get that it wasn't working. I just. . . didn't know how else to do it. . ."

"I know," she answered him, listening to his every word, letting it sink into her mind, heal some of the raw places.

"And I just couldn't do it your way anymore Luke. I just felt like I was going crazy waiting and hoping for something that just wasn't going to happen. I just didn't know how else to do it either . . ."

"I know," he answered back, understanding now more than he ever did before. For he's seen tonight, how truly deep he has hurt her. Deeper than he let himself think was ever possible. Tonight he's seen past the ultimatum that set events in motion, past the angry morning after. Tonight he's seen what they could have had, what they could have been if only they had done it together. Tonight he understands and the pain hits hard and sharp and has him clutching for her hand before he can stop himself.

"I don't want this to be the end," he whispers, warming her fingers between his, watching her catch her breath at his touch.

"I can't go back Luke," she cries. "I don't want to. I don't want to ever be that desperate girl again. . . I did everything to make sure I wouldn't ever just go back. . ."

"Christopher," he mutters.

"I knew if we just fought that it wouldn't matter. That you would come around and I would cave, and I would go back to waiting, forever if I had to. Somehow it all made some crazy kind of sense, to make it impossible for that to happen."

"Lorelai," he sighs, understanding too much now about how far he had really pushed her.

"You aren't supposed to be here," she whispers, "I'm not ready for you to be here. You can't just fix this like you fix everything else. You can't just forget everything that happened. You can't just wave a magic wand and make it all better. You can't. . . fix me."

Cupping her chin, he turns her head to face him. And it's the first time they have really looked at each other in over six weeks.

"You're not broken," he says in a tone that says don't argue with me, don't doubt me, don't think for a moment that I don't see how strong you really are.

And she just looks at this man, still so much her best friend, still ready to do battle with anyone or anything that dares to hurt her, even herself, and suddenly everything seems to come into focus.

"I'm so sorry Luke, I'm so sorry I hurt you," she says touching his face for a brief moment.

"We're going to get through this," he answers her.

"How?" she asks, suddenly so tired of thinking and trying to figure it all out, figure herself out.

"Together," he says simply. "We'll do it together."

"I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I can't bear it, I can't. I just want the pain to go away," she says, tears starting again.  
"I know, me too," he says wrapping her up in his arms. He knows all too well because that's all he's wanted for weeks, was for the pain to just go away. And it wasn't, it was just getting bigger and bigger, no matter how he tried to ignore it. It wasn't going away with time, he wasn't getting over her.

"Come on," he says finally, pulling her up from the step.

"Where are we going?"

"I know a really good place to get a cup of coffee."

"Really?" she says, a teary smile, brightening her face.

"I know these two friends, who used to spend hours talking and laughing," he says grabbing her hand as they walk back towards the diner.

"I think I used to know them too. They were very good friends," she quips, a little sadly.

"They still are," he says giving her a sideways glance, squeezing her hand. And for a moment it all seems so simple, too simple really, but she's not going to question it. Not tonight anyway.

"I heard they used to have pie with their coffee too."

"Well, of course. Life just gets better with pie," he says in that soft voice he has always saved just for her, giving her that smile that she hasn't seen in a very, very long time.

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

It started with flowers, such a simple thing. Not a fussy bouquet of roses, just a nice bunch of wild flowers, with a card that had no message, just his name. Luke.

They came on Monday. Because he remembered that sometimes she didn't like Mondays.

And they made her smile and remember.

_You know the last time I bought flowers for someone? Never. That's when . _

And she can stand on the Dragonfly steps and almost feel that first kiss, if she closes her eyes and lets herself. He was angry but tentative all the same, fighting a battle with himself whether or not to take a chance. And it seemed the most natural thing in the world to reach for him too, to return that first advance, to tell him to stand still for her.

And it all seems so long ago, in a much simpler time, before life and everything conspired against them. And for the first time in such a long time, she catches a glimpse of that Luke. The hesitant one, the insistent one, the one that would send flowers on a Monday, just because.

But still, she hesitates. It's too soon. It's too easy. After everything has been so hard for months and months it just can't all become too easy.

It's Thursday now, and a few are starting to wilt. She plucks one broken stem, and twirls the painted daisy through her fingers, lost in the depressing thought that nothing lasts forever.

She has been working late for weeks now, staying past the diner hour to keep herself occupied. She strolls into the kitchen to see if Sookie needs anything.

Sookie watches as Lorelai, a much quieter Lorelai stands in the kitchen, lost in thought, twirling the flower between her fingers.

"He's wooing you," Sookie says knowingly, giving Lorelai a little smirk.

"I hardly need wooing," she answers with a little laugh.

"You absolutely do need it. I can't think of anyone who needs it more."

"You're making me sound pathetic," Lorelai sighs.

"No. Not pathetic. Hurt. In need of some TLC for sure. And definitely in need of a little romance. You need to be swept off your feet. Oooo. . . You know, like in Gone with the Wind, when Rhett grabs her and kisses her, and carries her up that staircase. . .," Sookie says dreamily.

"Or later, when she declares her love for him, and he responds with , "frankly Scarlett, I don't give a damn? Yes, very romantic," Lorelai laughs.  
"Okay, bad reference. But you know what I mean. You need to be wooed a little. You need him to win you back, whether you want to admit it or not. And I think he needs that too. Just . . . don't make it too hard on him, okay."

"Sookie. . . . " Lorelai sighs.

"You guys were always meant to be together. I truly believe that. Things will work out, just give him time to show you. It's really up to him now."

"Lorelai," Derek interrupts.

"What can I help you with Derek?" Lorelai answers.

"There is someone in the dining room that would like you to join them."

"Please tell me my parents aren't here," she sighs.

"No ma'am, a man and a teenage girl," he says.

"Derek."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am."

She doesn't expect to see Luke and April, in the Dragonfly Inn's dining room, seated for diner.

"Lorelai, hi," April says excitedly.

Lorelai glances at the table set for three, and gives Luke an inquiring look.

"We'd like you to join us for dinner," Luke asks seriously.

"Well, I . . .," Lorelai stammers, unsure of what to do.

"Please Lorelai, I never got to thank you for the great birthday party," April asks, trying to convince her.

Reluctantly Lorelai pulls out a chair and sits down, a tentative nervous smile on her face.

"I got you something," April says, digging in her backpack.

"April, you didn't have to do that," Lorelai answers her, watching her shuffle through books, and pencils, notepads and hair ties.  
"Got it," she says triumphantly, handing the small package to Lorelai.

"Bonnie Belle Lip Gloss, the Strawberry Treats Collection," Lorelai exclaims, "they still smell so good. Where did you find this?"  
"Online. I thought about getting you the M&M chocolate collection, but. . ."

"Chocolate was so last year," they both say at the same time and burst out laughing.

And just as simple as that, they grin at each other and know, that they have bonded, despite Luke, despite Anna. And she knows that she already has a place in her heart for this child, so much Luke's, in so many ways.

They talk and laugh through dinner, April's chatter and ability to keep a conversation going, amazing. And she can't help but be amused by Luke, who looks so smug, so pleased with himself. _I guess I can't blame him,_ she thinks, because she's pleased with him too.

"Dessert?" Sookie asks, coming to the table and giving Lorelai a wink.

"It's caramel cheesecake," she coaxes, and they relent, though there was never really a possibility that April and Lorelai would turn it down.

She listens to Luke and April talk between bites of dessert, lingering over their time, enjoying themselves. And she realizes that he's done it, developed a relationship with his daughter. Lost in thought, she's surprised when Anna approaches their table.

"Hey Mom," April says, with a mouthful of dessert, greeting her mother.

"You really have to try this cheesecake. . . it's fantastic."

Anna slides into the empty fourth chair at their table, smiling at April, and accepting a bite of dessert from her offered fork.

"This is amazing," she says, "Lorelai, the Inn is just beautiful. I remember driving by here as a kid. You've done an amazing job renovating the place."

"Thank you," Lorelai smiles, feeling self-conscious and more than a little nervous.

"Would you like me to get you some dessert Anna," she asks politely.

"No. We really have to go," she says to April, taking the fork from her hand and sneeking the last bite, which makes April laugh.

"Next time," she says, to both Luke and Lorelai, "I will definitely take you up on the offer of dessert."  
Both of them leave with smiles, looking relaxed and happy. And when Lorelai looks over at Luke, he looks even more smug than he did before.

"So, what just happened here," Lorelai exclaims.

"I had dinner with my two favorite girls," he says innocently.  
"Luke, come on. . . .," she prods, needing to know how he changed Anna's attitude so dramatically.

Suddenly the smile disappears from his face, to be replaced by another look that she hasn't seen in a very long time. The look he had when he told her he was "all in." The look he used to get when he was about to say something, but wasn't sure what her reaction would be. That tentative, almost fearful look that said, I'm trying here, give me a chance.

"I told her that I don't have very many people in my life who are in my life permanently . . . forever. They will always be there for me. I will always be there for them," he said quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.

And hearing her words repeated back to her, words she had thought he had forgot about a long time ago, has her smiling back at him. The same smile she had when he asked her if she was scared. That tentative, almost shy look that said, I'm listening here, and your words have made me speechless once more.

"I told her that I made a mistake not making that clear, right from the start," he continued, "and that she would have to make the decision, but that she had to know that the only person that could possibly hurt April now, was her."

"Good answer," she says quietly. And they both know that they've taken one more step.

"Can I take that sir," Derek interrupts, as the dining room is closing, and the wait staff is trying to clear the tables.

"Yes, of course," Luke says, and the moment they were sharing is broken, and he can't help but feel slightly frustrated.

"I should get going," Luke says finally, standing to leave.

"Sure, I'll walk you out," Lorelai answers.

As they step out on the Dragonfly's front porch, they are both momentarily lost in thought.

But before she can descend the steps, Luke has spun her around and into his arms and she only has a moment of clarity before his lips descend on hers. Her breath hitches as his lips move slowly, as he tightens his grip on her waist. And for a moment, he takes a breath, only to deepen the kiss with a growl that's more a groan, as he asks for entrance with his tongue.

She answers with a matching sound, as her arms climb around his neck, and her tongue dances along his. She aches with a longing and need that starts somewhere deep within, and she thinks that maybe Sookie is right. Maybe she just needs him to take her choices away and sweep her off her feet.

Maybe it is only that simple.  
Reluctantly he releases her, leaving her standing still and feeling bereft from the loss of his touch.

"Goodnight Lorelai," he says, enjoying the look of dazed awareness on her face.

And _damn him _she thinks, as he walks to his truck, _he knows exactly what he's doing to me._

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

He thought she would hold out a little longer, so he was both surprised and pleased to see her Saturday morning for breakfast.

It is the first time she has come to him, approached him, met him more than half-way, and for that little step he is grateful. It's a start. A small one, but still. . . a start.

He didn't want to rush her, although his patience is running thin. And underneath the impatience is the feeling of panic that he tries unsuccessfully at times to keep at bay. That feeling that he is too late, that things have gone too far.

He wants nothing more than to turn back the clock, but he knows that is impossible.

"Have dinner with me tonight," he says quietly as he fills her coffee.

"Like a date?" she asks, gently teasing him. This morning is the first morning that she's woken up without feeling that sense of dread hovering over her. And if it is because she has pushed the bad things to the back of her mind, and is concentrating on only the good, than she'll take it. She needs the reprieve, a break from trying to figure out where they are going.

"Buddy and Maisy keep asking for you. Apparently Buddy has this dream of retiring, and buying an inn in Maine and slowing down a bit. He would like to ask you some questions. Although Maisy says that's just an excuse, that he is just smitten with you."

"Smitten huh, well I'm sure I could give Maisy a run for her money. He is a sweet old man."

"No doubt," he answers her dryly, "so, what do you think?"

"Sure," she answers laughing, "Why not?"

It never ceases to amaze her that Buddy can always deliver her favorite foods without her even ordering. She loves this place, these people that know Luke so well, that love him so much. They crowd into the booth with them tonight, one on each side, intent on joining the conversation.

"The inn is in the perfect spot, not too touristy, between Bath and Bar Harbor. It's a small inn, only 10 rooms, with a tiny dining room, but just the right size for us I think. It's busy all year round, and the owners have built up some repeat business. It's fully staffed, we just have to come and take over the running of it."

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Luke asks, surprised.

"Well, Lucas, we are getting up there in years you know. And the restaurant business is 24/7. We're ready to slow down a little. Enjoy life. Bounce some babies on our knees," Maisy comments, poking Luke in the side.  
"You guys can come up in the summer, spend a couple of weeks getting away, let us play grandma and grandpa," Buddy adds, winking.

"We have already put Sniffy's on the market. And of course, a quarter of the profit of the sale goes to you and Liz," says Buddy.

"Buddy, that's not necessary," Luke insists.

"Nonsense. Your father invested in this place. I'd still be at the Dairy if it wasn't for him. It has always been here for you, both Liz and you. . .and with Liz expecting, I'm sure a little surplus will come in handy. And now you have April to think of, and it's a start on that college fund I know you've been worrying about," Buddy says insistently.

"But. . .," Luke tries.

"Don't argue with me boy," Buddy says in mock seriousness.

"So, pretty lady, what can I get you for dessert," Buddy asks Lorelai with a smile.

"I get to choose?" she exclaims, grabbing the menu.

"So, chocolate cake right?" he answers distractedly, getting up to leave, as Maisy rolls her eyes and follows him.

"Better go make sure he doesn't forget you," she quips.

"So, are you okay with this, them selling and moving and everything," Lorelai asks Luke, watching his face fall as they walk away.

"I think I'm still in shock," he sighs.

They are quite on the drive home, both lost in their own thoughts. She can picture a big rambling house, close enough to catch the ocean smells in Maine. She can see a big wrap around porch, with rocking chairs and rattan and Buddy bouncing a happy baby boy on his knee. She can almost hear the baby's laughter echoing in the still summer shade as Maisey pours tall glasses of lemonade for the family gathered together on the porch. And she laughs at herself and the Norman Rockwell painting that she can see in her head.

Luke is also lost in thought on the way home, but his thoughts are dark and depressing. His thoughts are on loss and leaving and why things have to change. His thoughts are on what he's going to lose not on what he could possibly gain.

His thoughts are on what he has lost already, and as he pulls into the driveway, he has a desperate need to just hold onto her.

"Hey, do you want to come in?" she asks, noticing his sudden quietness, his change of mood.  
"Sure," he answers, walking her to the door.

She wanders inside, into the kitchen to check on Paul Anka. Everything somehow looks different to him, but he really can't place what has changed. It's the little things really, something new on a table here, a different pillow there, that hit him all at once with the acknowledgement that she had moved forward when he had stayed perfectly still.

And the strength of that, that she knew when it was time to walk away, hits him anew and leaves him hurting. He reaches for her, in spite of his misgivings about rushing her, needing her touch.

"Ask me to stay," he murmurs into her hair, as he pulls her toward him. And he can feel her tremble in response to his whispered request as he gathers her close.

It's so tempting for her, to just forget and enjoy this moment, but she can't. Not with so much left unsaid.

"Luke, there is so much we haven't talked about," she answers pleadingly, looking up at him, trying to make him understand.

"I know," he sighs, kissing her softly, not wanting to talk, just wanting to feel. He knows there's so much he hasn't told her.

"Ask me to stay anyway. Trust me," he says stubbornly, kissing her again, trying to soothe and convince.

"God Luke, it has nothing to do with me trusting you," she says finally, breaking free of his arms.

His frustration is obvious, his desperation a tangible thing in the air between them.

"God Lorelai, what DO you want?" he says, pacing away from her.

"Do you want me to say it? Is that it? Do you really want to hear this?"

He's practically shouting now, knowing that she deserves all these words, deserves to know all that he's been thinking about these last weeks, but still it's harder than he thought to say out loud. She stands quietly by the kitchen counter, waiting.

"I didn't trust you," he says quietly.

And although she knew that, it still hurts more than she thought it would to hear it come from him, for it to be laid bare as fact.  
"I didn't trust you with April."

"I know," she answers back.  
"Damn . . . I never trusted you . . . with anything," he shouts.

"I know," she whispers back, taking in his words, letting them seep into her mind.

Ranting now, the words pour fast the furious from him as he paces in front of her.

"But I never trusted Jess or Liz or Anna or Nicole or Rachel, or just about anyone else in my life either. I learned a long time ago, that people try their best, they mean well and all, but eventually they leave, no matter how much you don't want them to."

"I _know_ Luke," she repeats, taking in his pain now, making it part of her own.

And she did know and she did see. She knew him so well. And she knew how not to trust too. But she had learned to trust him, had taken that leap of faith. And it still hurt so much to hear it. . . that she had taken it alone, that he was never with her.

"Do you think I don't realize that I had my own relationship with Rory, while I kept April away from you? Do you think I don't realize that I demanded your honesty while I lied? All I've thought about for weeks is every stupid thing I've ever said. At how I controlled every part of our relationship and how I was so busy protecting myself that I didn't see how much I was hurting you."

She sags against the kitchen counter, arms folded protectively around her waist, and listens to him voice every doubt, every thought that has rolled around her mind for months.

"God Lorelai, I can't believe how much I hurt you, how much you let me hurt you," he stops in front of her and waits until she looks at him, needing to see something in her eyes, hear something more than, _I know._

"I practically pushed you into his arms."

"No Luke, that one's on me," she says.

And she should say more. Explain more. Beg forgiveness more. But she still hasn't totally faced that night, her actions, her motives.

"I swear, I'll never hurt you like that again," he vows.

"Hey. . ." she stops him, "I _know_," she answers, wrapping her arms around his waist, leaning into his shoulder.  
And they stand like that for a moment, his hands running up and down her back, his lips brushing her temple, as they just breath, and heal and forgive.

"Hey, when did you become more grown up than me?" he asks, whispering in her ear.

And she gives a little laugh, and raises tear filled eyes to smile at him.  
"I love you Lorelai," he says, brushing the hair from her face, his eyes full too.

"Stay," she answers, kissing him lightly. "Stay with me," she demands, for there really was no other answer that would satisfy them both more than that.

She wakes to the smell of coffee. And before she can open her eyes, she remembers and smiles.

Luke's back. The one she can talk to and fight with. The one she understands and that understands her. The friend that she lost when she found the lover. The lover that found that he can still be her friend.

The man that she fell in love with.

"Wow. Blueberry pancakes. This must be a special occasion," she jokes, grabbing the offered mug of coffee.

Placing the plates of food on the table, he just smiles at her.

"This is _your_ coffee. Thank God," she exclaims, enjoying his special brew.

"You must have been up for hours. I know I didn't have any food in the house," she adds.

"I've been busy," he says quietly, shrugging.

And as she sips and eats, she watches him and realizes that he looks different.

He looks happy.

"Come here," he beckons, as she finishes her breakfast, and she slides onto his lap, laughing.

"Marry me," he says laughing back.

"Luke, we don't. . ." but he stops her talk with a fierce kiss.

"Marry me now. A week from Saturday. 6 o'clock," he repeats.  
"So you've made plans now?" she mocks.

"I called Reverend Skinner this morning, and he says the church is free at 6:00 a week from Saturday, and he'd be happy to do the honors."

Laughing, she answers, "What time did you call him? You do know it's Sunday."  
"6:30. And yes, I know it's Sunday. He was up. It is a work day for him, remember?"

"We don't even go to his church," she exclaims.

"I think he mumbled something about it being a service to the community," Luke chuckled.

And they both laugh now, because it feels good and right somehow to do it this way. Here, where it all started, with the people who have traveled the road with them.

"Marry me Lorelai," he asks again tenderly, his face serious and intent as he waits for her answer.

"I thought you'd never ask," she chides gently, moved to tears by his words.

"Yes," she whispers against his lips, "Yes."

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Flipping her cell phone open, Lorelai frowns at the number before reluctantly answering.

"Hi Mom."

"Lorelai. I need you to be here at 4:00."

"Mom, I'm so busy. I don't know if . . ."

"Four o'clock, Lorelai. I know how busy you must be. If you can't stay for dinner tonight, I'll understand, really. I just need you here for four," she asks, almost distressed.

"Why?" she asks, wondering what her mother could possibly need her for. Afraid of what she could possibly be walking into.

"Please Lorelai, it's important."

"Okay Mom. I'll be there," she relents, juggling her schedule in her head, wondering how she's ever going to get everything done by next Saturday.

She always feels slightly stupid, ringing the door bell at her parents house, waiting to be let in.

"Lorelai. Good. You're here," Emily says excitedly, dragging her by the arm into the sitting room.

"Celine. She's here," Emily yells, and Emily never yells.

"Ah. . . Natalie Wood," Miss Celine exclaims, coming down the stairs.

"We're all ready for her Emily," Celine comments. "Come along Natalie. I know we're going to have so much fun."

Lorelai hesitates at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Emily to catch up to her.

"Mom. I already have a dress," she whispers so Miss Celine won't hear her.

"Did Luke see you in that dress?" she asks wryly.

"Yes. Really Mom, I'm not that superstitious."

"Right. I remember when you were about six you jumped over that crack in the driveway every day, because someone told you, jump on a crack, break your mother's back," Emily says smirking.

"Ahh, but you didn't notice that I stepped on that crack for years after that, and hey. . . nothing," she quipped back.  
"Very funny Lorelai," Emily says pushing her into her dressing room.  
The room was full of beautiful dresses, racks and racks of them. And Lorelai stands immobile for a minute trying to take it all in. She listens as Miss Celine and her mother talk and discuss, pulling dresses out and holding them up in front of her. She frowns down at one, and they both simultaneously shake their heads, discussing her like she's not there as the try-on pile grows.

"Try this one on Lorelai," Miss Celine prompts for the seventh time.

"I don't know. It just isn't what I picture for her," Miss Celine frowns.

"Oh my," she says suddenly, "I know what would be perfect for her. That new designer. Not too fussy. Made for a perfect summer wedding. Yes, I must see her in that one."

"Dana darling," Miss Celine pouts into her cell phone, "bring the Jasmine gown to the Gilmore's right away. Yes. That's the one."

"Nothing else will do. You have to see this one Natalie. It's perfect for you," Celine exclaims leaving the room.

Lorelai sighs, as she leaves the room, primping slightly in the mirror, frowning at herself.

"You're very quiet," Emily notices.

"I guess it's all starting to sink in. I'm getting married. . . in eight days."

"You're ready," Emily states, to Lorelai's surprise.

"I am. I am ready," Lorelai agrees, still not facing her mother.

"What's wrong Lorelai?" Emily asks, seeing something uncertain in her daughter's eyes as she watches her reflection in the mirror.

"I slept with Christopher," she blurts out before she can stop herself.

"I know. Christopher told me," Emily answers.

"Oh boy, I didn't see that coming. He came here. He talked to you?"

"He wanted my help."

"What did you say to him?" she asks, hesitating.

"I told him you must really truly be in love with Luke. That he needed to move on and let you find your way," Emily answers, a little sadly.

"Okay. That's good, but how did you know?" she asks finally, turning to face her.  
"Luke hurt you. He didn't trust you, and that hurt you very badly because I knew you trusted him completely. I wasn't surprised that you felt you needed to put him to the test."

"The test?" Lorelai exclaims, not liking where her mother's going with this.

"I understand. I don't blame you. You haven't had a lot of people in your life that you could depend on. We tried to protect you, give you back your childhood, but we never really trusted that you could make your own decisions. And God knows the damage that Christopher has done over the years," Emily sighs.

"Mother. . ." Lorelai starts, then stops, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"You needed something that he would have to overcome. You gave him an obstacle to cross. A way back into your heart. A test," she says softly, as if the quietness of her voice will lighten the meaning of her words.

"I wasn't testing him mother," she answers defensively.

"I wasn't," she says with more force.

"I was running. I was stupid for sure. Confused. Hurt. But I wouldn't . . . do that to him," Lorelai says softly, as if the quietness of her voice will make the thought just go away.

"Are you sure?" Emily asks, concerned now with the distress and shock on her daughter's face.

"Ahh, here it is, the perfect dress," Miss Celine interrupts, rushing into the room.

Lorelai, lost in thought, mechanically tries the dress on.

"Oh my, it's wonderful, just perfect for her. I knew it. I knew it," Miss Celine claps.

"I must find that veil," she continues, rummaging through boxes in the corner.

"Lorelai," Emily says softly, bringing Lorelai out of her musings.

"Turn around," she says, coming up to stand behind her daughter, both of them looking in the mirror.

And they both catch their breath at the picture she makes, the dress so perfect for her.

"You look beautiful," her mother says, tearing up at the sight of her daughter.  
"I love him so much Mom," Lorelai says meeting her eyes in the mirror, her eyes filling too.

"I know. And he loves you too. You're going to be very happy together," Emily declares, putting her arm around her daughter protectively and squeezing lightly. And it's the closest thing she's gotten to a hug in years.  
The look of panic was unmistakably on her face as she comes flying into the diner. And for a moment Luke's heart stops, as he takes in her distress.

Grabbing the plate from in front of Kirk, he declares, "We're closed."

"Hey, I wasn't done with that," Kirk complains until he turns and sees Lorelai still standing just inside the door.

"Ok. I'm out of here," he says as he flips the sign himself and shuts the door to leave.

"What?" he asks, coming around the counter to meet her halfway.

"My mother. . ." she starts.

"Lorelai, whatever your mother said doesn't matter. . ."

"Yes. It does. She said I was testing you.. . . I never thought of it that way. I just thought that I was escaping, burning my bridges, being my usual self destructive self. But. I think . . . maybe she was right," and it's almost a weight off her shoulders to finally say it, to confess her insecurities to him, to face that one last demon.

"Lorelai, I kind of figured that out myself," he says with a shrug, because it really doesn't matter anymore.

"I can't believe how juvenile I've been. Can't believe I put you through that. Not so grown up now, huh?" she asks, trying to joke through the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Hey, we'll grow up with the kids," he says dryly, brushing tears off her face.

"I will never, ever hurt you like that again," she vows.

"I know," he says hugging her tightly, relief that this is all it is that's upset her, just one last thing that got left unsaid.

"So I passed, right?" he says finally, smiling into her tear-drenched face.

"With flying colors."

EPILOGUE

She stands for a moment at the back of the church, watching how the afternoon sunlight plays through the stained glass windows, how it dances lights and color across the room. And wonders at how perfect it all looks, how like that long ago blurry daydream in a church miles away.

The organ starts playing the procession, and as the people stand she remembers her long ago prayer. Her desperate plea. _Please Lord, let us have our middle._

And when he slips the ring on her finger, and she slips another on his, she knows that this _is _just the beginning of their new life, one they will build _together._

And it _is _so perfect, so good and pure, andso right.


End file.
